


Boys' Night In

by Hiver_Frost_Elf



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Shaving Kink, Spanking, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15391206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiver_Frost_Elf/pseuds/Hiver_Frost_Elf
Summary: Life's become a flurry of work and Flash business, so god, it's good to have time all for themselves again!





	Boys' Night In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KiddyStormi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiddyStormi/gifts).



> another gem of a prompt from Kidstorm: Barry and Hartley started dating before the particle accelerator exploded. After Hartley and Barry are both working on semi the same team, Hart organizes a nice dinner then night to themselves. B is nervous of course and Hart talks B through the nervousness before going over rules and stuff before making B strip for him. Hart then gets B’s collar, a dark green with a red music note on it and puts it on Barry. then they have sex for hours, Hartley definitely wearing a cock ring to keep it going cause he ain’t a speedster like B. Blindfold for Barry cause otherwise he’ll come from the sight of Hartley on him and not when Hart wants.

Barry was fidgeting all throughout dinner.  Hartley considered ordering him to sit at his feet and feed him there, but Barry was eating on his own.

It occurred to Hartley that this would be the first time they’d had sex beyond make outs and hand jobs since the particle accelerator exploded.  The flurry of chaos that was Flash business and their day jobs left Hartley and Barry too tired to do anything other than flop into bed together, but tonight, Central City was finally quiet.  No criminals were stirring, not even a Snart.

“You’ll do great, Barry,” Hartley squeezed his hand. “You always do.”

“But my powers—what if I do something weird???”

“Bartholomew Henry Allen,” Hartley said once he swallowed his current bite, “if you think I’m not aiming to have you vibrating around my dick at least once tonight, you are sorely mistaken.”

Barry flushed as his eyes darkened with arousal.

“Ready to go over the rules?” Hartley asked once they finished.

“Mm-hmm,” Barry nodded as he scooched his chair closer to Hartley.

“Safe word?”

“Nickle.”

“Noted,” Hartley petted his cheek. “Gestures?”

“One finger out for go, two for pause, three for stop.”

“Excellent,” his tone became firm after that. “The first rule is that you are to use your safe word or stop gesture immediately if you feel unpleasant.  You wouldn’t want to push past my limits, so give me the courtesy of helping me avoid pushing past yours.”

“Yes, sir,” Barry nodded.

Hartley’s eyes flashed wide, “The second rule is that you will call me ‘sir’ tonight.”

Barry snickered, “Sure thing, sir.”

Hartley winked at him.

“The third rule is that you will only come when I tell you.”

Barry gulped.

“The forth rule is that the rules apply once I put your collar on, and they stop applying once I remove it or you use your safe word or stop gesture.”

Barry grinned when Hartley mentioned the collar.  It’d been a while even before the particle accelerator exploded that Barry had worn it during a scene.  He’d secretly worn it a few times at the CCPD, but he needed unrestricted airflow as the Flash.  It’d feel fantastic to be truly claimed and owned again...

Barry sighed when Hartley fitted it around his throat: dark green velvet centered with a red, metallic sixteenth note charm.

“Comfy?”

“Mm-hmm...”

“Good,” Hartley petted his hair. “Strip for me.”

Barry stood up to doff his clothes at normal speed: unbuttoning his shirt, slipping out of his socks, shimmying out of his jeans and sliding down his boxers.

“Follow me,” Hartley led him to the bedroom. “Kneel.”

Barry got on his knees.

“Status?”

“Good to go, sir.”

“Excellent...” Hartley prowled behind him. “I’m going to blindfold you.  Any objections?”

“No, sir.  Never, sir.”

“There should be objections—when I go beyond your limits, for instance.”

“A blindfold isn’t a limit for me, sir.”

“Very well...”

The blindfold dialed up everything: the carpet beneath him, Hartley’s soft fingers rustling through his hair, Hartley’s feet padding around him, Hartley’s voice commanding him.

“But keep an eye on your status, my handsome man.”

Barry shuddered when his praise kink kicked in, “Yes, sir.”

Hartley secured a cock ring around himself to keep up with Barry, then ran through Barry’s hair again.

“You should’ve washed this out before dinner; you know I don’t like gunk on my hands.”

“I...” Barry flushed, ducked his head, and mumbled.

“Hmm? Speak up,” Hartley lifted Barry’s head.  Hartley heard him loud and clear, but he wanted him to ask for what he wanted.

“I was... hoping you’d wash it... sir.”

“You want me to take care of you, my handsome man?”

“Please...” Barry breathed.

How could Hartley deny him that?

Hartley helped him up and guided him into the shower once the water was cool enough.  He held Barry against his chest and kept the spray out of Barry’s face.  He combed through Barry’s hair in circles and rows.

Once most of the product had washed away, Hartley brought one of his hands down.  He smirked when Barry’s breath hitched and frowned when Barry clamped his mouth shut.

“Don’t do that,” Hartley nibbled Barry’s wet neck. “I love hearing your little noises.”

Barry gasped and whimpered as Hartley continued.  The cool spray primed his other nipple while Hartley battered the first one.  Hartley scrubbed a conditioner that would make Barry’s hair extra fluffy.  Divine fingers harvester sinful moans.  Barry caught his breath during this temporary reprieve, but he let out a squeaky whimper when Hartley moved on to the formerly ignored one.

Hartley reached forward to pitch the water at Barry’s groin.  Barry gasped and squirmed—held in place by a firm grip on his hips—as the spray chilled his cock until his oncoming orgasm ebbed away.

Hartley toweled him off, starting from his head, drifting down his back and up those lightning abs.

“You missed a spot,” Barry chuckled, wiggling his still wet hips.  Everything below his stomach was still wet, in fact.

Barry yipped when Hartley pinched his ass, “All the better to shave with, my dear.”

Hartley knew Barry’s eyes had lit up behind the blindfold.  He folded the towel onto the toilet and positioned Barry to sit there after he dried himself off.  Water dripped onto the fuzzy rug below their feet while Hartley grabbed shaving cream, a razor, his glasses, and another towel.

He lathered Barry up and meticulously sheared each leg.  Barry’s knuckles went white gripping the towel beneath him.

“Hartley, please,” Barry panted as his cock bubbled with precum.  His microscopic refractory period made his body starving for his first.

“Don’t come,” Hartley reminded him.

Barry bit his lip raw to keep from squirming.  He sighed when Hartley wiped the razor off with the other towel, figuring it was only a matter of time before he received permission to come.  He swore when Hartley dashed this hope by taming his armpits and stubble.

“Hartley, please!”

“You’re not coming until I’m inside you.”

Barry’s cock throbbed impatiently, “I’m gonna come as soon as you’re inside me at this rate!”

Hartley chuckled as he tugged Barry up, not bothering to redress either of them beyond his own glasses, “It’s been so long; you’ll need extra preparation tonight.”

“Oh, god!” Barry cursed the cruel combination of his overzealous healing and meta after meta terrorizing the city and case after case at the CCPD. “Hartley, I can’t wait that long!”

“You can, my handsome man, and you will,” Hartley kissed his cheek before shoving him prone onto the bed.

Barry swore at the friction against his cock.

“Status?”

“God! Just go already!”

Barry yelped when Hartley’s hand came down hard on his ass.

“So bossy...  You need this; you need me to put you in your place.  You’ve already racked up six infractions: calling me the wrong thing.”

“I’ve only called you Hartley four times!”

“You’ve called me god twice.”

Barry gulped as Hartley prowled the bed.

“So what should that mean, Barry?  Six toys I get to play with?  Six times you have to come before this is over?  Six minutes before you can come?”

“Whatever you want, sir.”

“I want so many wicked things for you.  If you’re lucky, I’ll do a few of them to you tonight.”

That was a lie; the only thing that would keep Hartley from having his wicked way with Barry was if the world spontaneously combusted.  Hopefully, Mick Rory was doing whatever or whoever he did between stealing stuff and starting bar brawls.

Hartley hadn’t even gotten two fingers into Barry before Barry shrieked and came.  Hartley withdrew his finger and raised his brow.

“You,” Barry panted. “You said I could come when you were inside me, sir.”

“So I did...”

Barry’s cheeky grin morphed into a feast of moans and twitches when Hartley returned to stretching him, searching for his prostate.  Hartley gripped Barry’s hip with his free hand when he thrust his hips back to meet him.

“Stay still.  It’s hard to hit a moving target.”

“That’s not gonna be the only hard thing here soon, sir.”

“Already?” Hartley asked, amused. “You’re so hungry.  Did you eat enough for dinner?”

“I always have room for sausage and cream, sir.”

“Don’t forget your essential oils,” Hartley said as he worked lube and another finger into Barry, whose only response was to swear and tear at the sheets.

Hartley smirked.  He alternated between stirring and pumping his fingers inside Barry: minutes of slow swirling peppered with knuckle-deep presses.

Barry gasped when Hartley brought his fingers out again to circle his hole.  Barry was already trembling, and his breath got even shakier when Hartley pounded into him with a Scout’s Honor.

“Status?”

“Green! Green!  So, so good, sir!  Please put your cock in me, sir!”

“Is that all I am to you? A talking dildo?”

“No, sir!” squawked Barry. “Never, sir!”

“Your body is mine to put whatever I want in it,” Hartley came down hard on Barry’s ass, “whenever I want.”

Hartley switched to the other cheek—smack, rub, switch, smack, rub, pause, smack, switch, smack, switch, rub, rub, smacked until Barry’s ass—feasting on his new color and little noises.

He grabbed a pinch of Barry’s hair, his other hand on Barry’s shoulder, “How are you?”

Barry nodded and shook his head, “Yel-yellow, sir.”

“You’re so good, being honest with me,” Hartley kissed his temple, causing Barry to mewl.  Half a lifetime of not being believed gave Barry trouble telling the truth.  If nobody was going to believe him, what was the point?  But Hartley was patient and cared enough to help him open up and trust again. “I think a short break is in order, hmm? A drink for sure.”

“And a...” Barry’s voice shrank, “and a cuddle?”

“Of course,” Hartley kissed his forehead before grabbing a water bottle with a sports cap for ease of access.  He helped Barry sit up and sip, hugging him securely and peppering his face with kisses once he’d take a sip of his own.  Barry squirmed when Hartley whispered praises in his ears.

A flush conquered Barry’s cheeks and torso, “Sto-op!”

“Never!” Hartley held him more firmly. “I’ll always let you know when you’re doing a good job.”

“Who tells you when you do a good job?”

“You do—with every moan and whimper, when you tell me how good I feel inside you or how good I feel around you, every time you’re glistening with sweat and sticky with cum and purple with my marks.”

It was unfortunate that Barry’s accelerated healing wiped his body blank in seconds unless Hartley all but broke his jaw marking him, yet Barry liked it when his jealousy and possessiveness flared up.  Barry knew fully well that his puns as flirting with Snart set him off like a Trickster bomb; his throbbing lips cocked into a grin when Hartley was through with him in the ten minutes they had to spare between the Rogues’ heist and Top and Mirror Master plundering a natural history museum.

“I made something for you.”

“Oh?”

“When you’re ready to continue, of course.”

“I’m ready; please, sir!”

“Status?”

“Green!”

“Excellent. On your stomach, and I’ll go grab it.”

Barry flopped into position, wiggling his ass invitingly.  He hummed in confusion when Hartley padded out of the room.  Usually, their toys were in the chest in their closet.  Barry swore he heard the freezer or the fridge opening and closing.  Maybe Hartley was grabbing another water bottle?

Hartley worked a dollop of warming lube into him with leather-gloved fingers.  Barry gave a soft _oh_ at the heat and extra thickness inside him.

“Ohhh,” Barry’s toes curled and unfurled. “Ah, Har—sir—ah, sir, that feels good.”

The blindfold kept him from seeing anything, especially Hartley’s smirk when he picked up the other object he’d brought back with him.

“Are you ready for something thicker, Barry?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Barry had been ready for Hartley’s cock all day. “Please, sir!”

OH FUCK THAT WASN’T HARTLEY’S COCK COLD COLD COLD!!!

Barry shrieked and writhed.  The warming lube cushioned the dildo’s frigidity somewhat, but it still felt like having the cold gun shoved up his ass.  That’s when Barry learned that the gloves were only partially intended to stretch him; they also protected Hartley so he could move it inside him.

“Cold! Cold!! Cold!!!”

“Not Cold, Piper.”

Barry hissed when the toy speared his prostate.

Hartley patted Barry’s cheek, “I designed it specifically for taking down the Flash; everyone in Central City knows how vulnerable you are against low temperatures.”

“Ta-taking down or, or t-t-taking—oh fuck! Ffffuck fuck fuuuuck!”

“Status?”

“Green as a—fuuuuuuck!”

“I’ve never heard of a fuck being green before,” Hartley slowed the pace to a crawl to mess with Barry. “Unless the sweet, innocent hero of Central City has some secret kinks I don’t know about yet?”

Barry squealed as his cock twitched with delight.

Then he suddenly felt empty.  He whimpered.  Barry wanted the toy back—he knew Hartley couldn’t resist using toys he’d built on him, so why’d he take it away?—he felt hollow without something inside him.

“Oh!” Barry gasped.

Hartley’s cock burned compared to the toy.  Barry moaned, and Hartley moaned with him.  He was lengthy without much girth, but Barry felt more filled than he did with the dense toy; because it was Hartley, his boyfriend, his dom, Barry’s as much as Barry was Hartley’s.  Barry would shout how much he loved him from the rooftops every day if that didn’t harass Hartley’s now enhanced hearing.  Barry wanted to spell H + B or P + F as a lightning trail on the streets.

“Where’d all that sass from earlier go, Barry?” Hartley chuckled in Barry’s ear once he’d fully seated himself within him. “You’re supposed to get hard with me inside you, not go soft.”

“I’ve always got a soft spot for you, sir...” Barry smiled between moans—goddamn, Hartley felt fantastic! “I mean, shit!  I’m hard and aching for you!  Gotta raging boner with your name on it, sir!”

Barry let out a litany of _oh god oh god oh god_ because nobody said _raging boner_ ever, _god he was the worst at dirty talk_.

“Shh, Barry, I told you you’d do great tonight, and you are; you’re doing so, so well—better than my wildest dreams.”

Barry panted, internally flipping at being the center of so much desire.  It was never anything he thought his lanky limbs and forest of freckles would ever get.  He was the weirdo all throughout middle school, high school, college, and even at the CCPD.  But Hartley had been drooling over and stroking himself at the sight of Mister July in the CCPD charity calendar for over a year they’d even met!

Hartley once had the opposite problem: a disproportionate ratio of lust to love.  Everyone thirsted for a piece of his ass—he had a marvelous ass if he and Barry did say so themselves—but intimacy hadn’t been in the cards for him for a long time.  People loved what he could do, but nobody loved who he was.

They were whole on their own—like two tubes brimming with paint; life just was more colorful together.

“I’m going to come, Barry,” Hartley purred, relishing the sight and feel of Barry’s body buzzing around him.  His toes constantly curled and unfurled.  Gooseflesh had cropped up all over Barry’s back.  The cold from the toy hadn’t completely gone away yet. “Would you like to pick where?”

Barry all but squealed at the prospect, “Stay right where you are, sir!”

Hartley chuckled.  It was cute when Barry took charge in bed, his tone always tinted with _if that’s okay with you_ , fighting his submissive instincts at every word.

Words left them both when Barry sang for Hartley, when Hartley sang for him.  A song of pleasure and satisfaction.

Hartley enjoyed his high, then promptly set about cleaning them both up.  He pulled out and gently rolled Barry onto his back, setting his head on his favorite pillow before wiping him down.  His own cum dripping out of Barry’s ass was a momentary distraction.

“You were so good tonight, love,” Hartley worked off the blindfold off slowly so as not to blind him.  His heart fluttered upon seeing Barry’s eyes half-lidded and glossed over with the pleasure he’d given him. “You were perfect for me.”

Barry babbled something that sounded like _just for you_.

“Shh, shh, don’t try to talk right now.  Just rest.”

Hartley petted him and read another chapter of the book they’d picked out together.  Barry was finally resting when it’d concluded.  Hartley sipped some water before joining him under the covers and pulling him closer—carefully so as not to disturb him—dozing off to the lullaby of Barry’s heartbeat, sluggish from tonight’s activities.  That was the best part of all this: utterly exhausting his constantly bustling boyfriend.  Now... not a hero was stirring, not even a Flash.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking time to read this; enjoy what you do here and everywhere!


End file.
